Are landscapes truly shaped by our culture, or do they exist independently of our perceptions? Simon Schama, a renowned author and professor of art history, delves into this question in his book "Landscape and Memory." Schama suggests that our entire landscape tradition is a cultural construct, built from a rich deposit of myths, memories, and obsessions. This idea invites us to explore how literature, art, and current events have shaped our perception of landscapes and how these influences extend into the ecotourism industry today.
But what does it mean to say a landscape is constructed? Let’s take a step back and define two key terms: landscape and constructed. Generally, a landscape encompasses the visible features of an area of land, including physical, living, abstract, and human elements. The term "landscape" appeared in the English language in the late 16th century, derived from the Dutch word "landschap," and it signifies a unit of human occupation. "Constructed," on the other hand, refers to any phenomenon—like a constructed landscape—where participants in a culture or society agree to behave as if it exists.
Our journey begins with Thomas Burnet, an Anglican churchman and fellow of Christ's College in Cambridge. Burnet’s travels across Europe, particularly over the Alps through Simplon Pass, inspired his work "The Sacred Theory of the Earth." Published in 1681, this book challenged the biblical orthodoxy that the earth had always looked the same and opened doors for new geological theories. Burnet's work crucially shaped how mountains were perceived and imagined, laying the foundation for the construction of the landscape aesthetic.
But how did this fascination with landscapes evolve further? The era of exploration significantly influenced society's view on landscape aesthetics. European countries, in a race toward colonialism, sought control over unmapped areas. In 1764, King George III initiated a campaign for sea-bound expeditions. Successful explorers returned as conquering heroes, the film stars of their day. They needed a new descriptive language to convey their extraordinary experiences to an audience that had never seen mountains or vast expanses of snow and ice.
During the Romantic Era, artists and writers expressed their emotional responses to the grandeur of nature through language and mark-making. The sublime became the dominant mode of imagining and experiencing the power of raw nature. This passion for the grandeur of nature and fascination with the unknown is documented in Peter De Bolla's survey of 18th-century literature. He found over 1500 texts concerned with sublimity, referencing propositions, theories, and arguments on good taste, the ideals of beauty, and nature.
One striking example of romantic descriptions in literature comes from Shelley's poem "Alastor, or The Spirit of Solitude." Shelley describes an overwhelming landscape with pinnacles, precipices, and ravines, expressing his elation at watching the sunset and the rising moon. Poets and writers weren't alone in depicting their awe of natural wonders; painters also created large canvases portraying their mental visions. Artists like J.M.W. Turner and Claude Lorrain worked in the landscape tradition of the sublime, emphasizing the grandeur of landscapes.
But how does this artistic passion translate to modern-day ecotourism? The rise of the middle class brought significant societal changes, including disposable income used for recreational pursuits. The countryside transformed into a site of leisure for a privileged group, and increased leisure time and appreciation of landscape aesthetics fueled a desire for consuming spectacular natural scenery. This new industry gave rise to a discourse characterized by the availability of stock images and conventional tropes. Travelers could purchase packaged vacations and souvenirs commemorating their experiences, and advancements in photographic technology allowed vacation goers to take pictures to share with family and friends.
In the 20th and 21st centuries, many contemporary landscapists moved away from allowing the pictorial tradition to dictate nature. Instead, they aimed to dissolve the artistic ego within the natural process, producing an anti-landscape where the artist's intervention is minimal and transient. Artists working in the environment take the subject of nature out of the museum, bringing viewers into the elements and away from the hermetic environment of a gallery space.
Two artists who exemplify this approach are Robert Smithson and Richard Long. Smithson's "Spiral Jetty," built on the Northeastern shore of the Great Salt Lake, is designed to work within the natural rhythms of the environment. Long’s work, such as "A Line in Ireland," uses materials found within the immediate area, resembling well-worn pathways. Long becomes an integral part of his pieces, which become pilgrimages from one point to another, reinventing his passage through time and space within the viewer's imagination.
These artistic and literary influences have significantly impacted the ecotourism industry. Ecotourism thrives on the desire to experience nature's grandeur, much like the artists and writers of the past. The industry's success hinges on the narrative and visual appeal of landscapes, constructed and romanticized through centuries of cultural expression. Modern ecotourism often incorporates storytelling, using the language of the sublime to evoke strong emotions and a deep connection to nature.
Ecotourism guides, like the artists and poets before them, serve as interpreters of the natural world. They use vivid descriptions and personal anecdotes to bring landscapes to life for their clients. This immersive approach helps travelers develop a profound appreciation for the environment, encouraging conservation and sustainable practices.
So, are our landscapes truly constructed by our culture? Simon Schama believes so, and this exploration through art, literature, and the rise of ecotourism supports his view. From Burnet's early geological theories to the sublime expressions of Romantic poets and the modern anti-landscapes of contemporary artists, our perception of landscapes is deeply intertwined with cultural narratives. As Schama states, "Our landscape tradition is a product of a shared culture, built from a rich deposit of myths, memories, and obsessions."
Must be Logged In to leave comments.